


Clay Pigeon

by dotfic



Series: Impverse [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-03-29
Updated: 2008-03-29
Packaged: 2017-10-29 15:29:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/321392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dotfic/pseuds/dotfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam persuades Dean they should adopt an imp. Dean's convinced this can only end badly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Clay Pigeon

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: Set in a bubble of time during mid-season 1. This is for [](http://ileliberte.livejournal.com/profile)[**ileliberte**](http://ileliberte.livejournal.com/) on her birthday; the series is all sort of her fault to begin with anyway.

"I'm a chump." Dean tugged off his wool hat to reveal that his hair hadn't yet reverted back to its normal color from bright plaid. "An easy mark."

Sam took the glass jar from Dean, who kicked the motel room door closed behind them. As Sam put the jar containing the imp on the dresser, the little creature stared up at him, eyes widening, and then slid down with its back against the glass.

"A dupe," Dean muttered, straddling a chair. "A patsy."

"You won't be sorry," Sam said, and seeing how defeated Dean looked, he felt a twinge of guilt mixed with doubt. After all, Dean was the one who'd been hunting with Dad for years while Sam stayed in the sanctuary of a university library; Sam was pretty sure Dean knew more about supernatural beings than he did.

In the jar, the imp slumped, head lolling. Its chest heaved as it closed its eyes.

Sam bent and put his face closer to the glass.

"Careful, Sammy," Dean warned, holding out his hand.

"It's all right." The imp's eyes opened and when it saw Sam so closed it shied back. "Hey little guy, you hungry?"

The imp cocked its head.

Sam rummaged in his backpack until he found a Hershey bar. They always had a good supply of chocolate candy tucked into their pockets -- for quick energy on a hunt or when they were stuck somewhere. It was something Dad had started, not something Sam or Dean had asked for.

He wondered what Dad was doing, right then, if he was dry and warm, if he was lying hurt and bleeding or sitting alone in a bar somewhere. Sam felt a flicker of resentment: _why doesn't he just call?_

Peeling back the wrapper, Sam broke off two squares of chocolate. He put the chocolate down on the dresser and began to unscrew the jar lid.

"Hey. Wait a sec." Dean levered himself off the chair and hurried over.

But Sam had lifted the lid about half an inch, dropped the two squares inside, and sealed it again by the time Dean got there. "Relax, man."

"Yeah, right."

The imp snatched up the chocolate squares, sniffed at them, took a tiny nibble, then a large bite. It made a low noise, almost a hum, as it devoured the chocolate.

"We should name it," Sam said.

"Oh for cryin' out loud."

"It's better than calling it 'it' all the time, or 'the thing.'"

"'Thing' is a perfectly good name." Dean tapped the glass with his ring, but gently, it seemed to Sam.

The imp stuffed another bit of chocolate into its mouth and stared up at Dean.

Sam ran through possibilities, and hit on the obvious. "Oh, I got it. How about Impal--"

"Don't you dare!" Dean shouted, and the imp fell over backwards. "Don't you dare."

"Fine. Chevy."

"Chevy?" Dean blinked.

"His name is Chevy."

"Huh." Dean scratched his plaid hair. "How do you know it's a 'he'?"

~end

  
Continued in [If You Can't Beat 'Em](http://dotfic.livejournal.com/208242.html)


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